Beast
by Flora Winters
Summary: A cheating prince, a brokenhearted faerie, and a terrible curse are only the beginnings of this morbid little fairytale. Language, MM, OC, and Violence
1. Chapter Prologue

Beast

Flora_Winters

I do not own Beauty and the Beast, and I'm not making any money writing this story either.

Summary: Cheating, a broken heart, and a terrible curse are only the beginnings of this morbid little fairytale. Language, MM, OC, and Violence

Prologue

Vane was a wicked faerie, not evil, WICKED! There was a difference, he just didn't give a damn what that difference happened to be. He either got what he wanted or he slung sparkly curses until he did.

Griffyn was intelligent enough to know that, but arrogant enough to think that he would not be caught in a thousand years. Human males were such silly creatures. They were always thinking with their cocks, never with their brains.

_Why, oh why did I have to go and sample another's yummy pot of gold? Why couldn't I have been happy with the pretty shiny I already possessed?_

"When I find you, Griff," that shimmering voice hissed like a silk scarf slithering in order to strangle something vile. "I'm going to make you wish you never caused my heart to beat."

Griffyn could sense the frightening magic in the air and it was like razor sharp pricks cutting along his bronze flesh. The magic was alive and it was angry. It was seething something terrible and it was out for blood, his blood.

He crouched down behind one of the many rosebushes that were in full bloom throughout the palace garden. Well, at least he would be able to smell the roses before he was enchanted into a million teeny tiny pieces.

A glistening bolt of lava-hot lightning struck the ground a few feet from where he was trembling in holy terror. He could feel the raw heat from it. It brought tears to his eyes, scorching the back of his throat. That blast of booming thunder that followed gave his eardrums a good rattle, causing him to lower his head, putting his large sweaty palms over his ears. His heart was fluttering like a frightened bunny in his chest.

Vane was most terrible in his anger. He had, once upon a time, transformed an entire ballroom full of people from all over the realm into white mice for daring to offer him a silver plate instead of a golden one, while unleashing a legion of rabid kittens. He had then promptly enchanted the baby princess into a baby swan, roasting her on the spindle of a spinning wheel, cackling up a wicked storm.

Oh, it had been love at first curse.

"I'll teach you to sleep around with another!" That gorgeous voice sung like glittering bells of doom. "I'm more beautiful than Beauty itself! I should know! I carved out the dumb bitch's heart myself AND ATE IT!"

Griffyn began to crawl on his hands and knees through the thorny bushes, gritting his white teeth. The needle sharp thorns were biting into him like hungry fangs.

"I highly recommend you reveal yourself, you cheating wretch!" Vane growled like an ocean tremor just before another angry bolt scorched the green earth. "I have enough bolts to lay waste to this whole castle, little man!"

A twisting vine of emerald green snaked its way around Griffyn's ankle, thorns hungrily tearing into him. He bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to bring blood.

He turned to glare deadly daggers of doom at the crazy weed. The vine quickly let him go, waving in apology. The silly dear had not recognized its prince, for all he had on were a pair of shredded leather pants.

"Griffyn," that seductive voice purred, calling to him like a flame does to a moth. "Come out come out, wherever you are…I want to give you a big kiss…"

He poked his head up, taking a careful look around before pouncing behind a lovely fountain of a frowning mermaid. She looked to be bellowing about how her clamshell bra was chaffing her boobs.

Griffyn fought to control his ragged breathing for fear of Vane hearing him. The dark faerie was lucky if he could hear anything over the sound of his own wicked tune.

"I hate you!" Vane screamed, hurling another earth shaking spell. "How could you do this to me, you bug! I love you!"

Griffyn closed his topaz-blue eyes, running a shaking hand through his black locks that looked as though they had been weaved from the darkest of glossy spider's silk. He hated it when Vane cried. The faerie was even more vindictive when he had tears of pearls streaming from his gemstone eyes.

"Come out and face me like a man, you coward!" Vane shrieked, stalking ever closer, like a poisonous miasma. "I want you to tell me why you couldn't keep it in your pants as I drain the life from your husk!"

Griffyn suddenly took off running like a dark shadow, barely dodging the hissing bolt of fiery death. He cursed when he fell flat on his handsome face with a thud. The explosion threw dirt and debris all over him.

"I did not give you permission to dodge!" Vane snarled like a large cat, looming just four meters from his fallen lover like a shimmering storm of death. "I command you to look upon my greatness and tremble, you slut!"

Griffyn's breath froze in his lungs. He had been caught. It was all over now. He was about to say howdy-do to Death.

"I said, look upon me!" Vane commanded, stomping a sharp booted heel that glistened with black fire. "Look upon me and see what you've thrown away like trash!"

Griffyn slowly crawled to his knees, turning to look upon his enraged lover. He gazed upon the ethereal beauty and his manhood wanted to invert because of the glare he was receiving. Those molten ocean green jewels could scorch the mythological Medusa to white ash. Oh, his beauty was terrible and twisted to behold when enraged.

Beauty was gazing down on him with longing and disgust. Long curly locks shimmered like silky strands of molten sunlight.

Griffyn gazed upon moon kissed white flesh that made mother of pearl weep with envy. Those sultry red lips glowed like brilliant rubies, and he knew they were softer than the softest rose petal.

Black spider silk billowed around the tall faeries willowy frame like tendrils of violet smoke. He was holding a wooden wand made of ebony and holly wood. There was an amethyst gemstone on the tip, glowing with magic.

"Someone has been a very nasty boy," Vane hissed, gliding forward as if dancing on ice, causing Griffyn to crawl backwards. "Going around, sticking it in others, not knowing where they've been, hmm?"

Griffyn gulped. This was not good. Vane was smiling. It was never good when he was smiling. Oh, he was crazy and wickedly beautiful, both at the same time.

Vane rolled his splendid orbs of ocean radiance and his beautiful smile was twisted with slight madness. He was so caught up in the drama of his own magnificence.

"Now," he said, tapping his wand against his open palm. "How shall I punish you for pissing me the hell off?"

Griffyn's mouth was literally zipped shut and he scratched at his lips, trying to force them open, failing miserably. He fought to stay calm and breathe through his nostrils.

"I want to hear my voice right now," Vane giggled like a falling star bleeding across the sky, looming over his prey like a grand spider. "How about I seal your nostrils shut to and watch you roll around as you suffocate to death?"

Griffyn looked up at him with begging blue eyes. He did not want to die like that.

~*~

Vane spun away from him with a hiss in order to hide the tears that were streaming from his eyes once more. His slender shoulders were trembling with each muffled sob.

"How could you?" He whispered, not turning to look at the love of his life. "How could you hurt me so? Don't I mean anything at all to you? Why wasn't I enough for you?"

He was shaking and he couldn't make himself stop. It hurt. It hurt so much. His heart was breaking, killing him. He felt like his heart was being stabbed over and over with a red hot ice-pick.

Vane suddenly spun around with the grace of a snapping whip making Griffyn mentally feel his deadly sting. The ache in the dark faeries' heart was a pain he had never known before and he hated it. He wanted it gone. He would make it gone. He would freeze himself all over again and never allow another to ever touch his heart.

~*~

The sweet, almost euphoric scent of a thousand-thousand luscious red roses assaulted Griffyn's senses. He could only mew in terror because of his mouth being sealed shut like the palace dungeons. He begged his dark love to forgive him, using his lovely eyes.

_How did that puppy dog look go again?_

"Beast!" Vane cried, pointing his wand at him, eyes scorching him like angry twin stars. "You shred my heart with your careless claws!"

Griffyn was knocked flat on his broad back by his words as green vines began to slither and coil around his powerful yet powerless frame like serpents. The scent of the roses was overwhelming him.

Beauty floated above him with vibrant wings of amethyst splendor. They looked like great stained glass windows with brilliant lights illuminating them from within.

"A beast you shall become," that haunting voice began to sing its spell. "You shall be horrible and frightening to behold. All living things shall flee from you as you reach out in despair!"

The enchantment weaved itself around the handsome prince like a thick silver mist, changing his form. He tried to cry out but the pain of his transformation was too great to allow it.

Tears of liquid moon fire spilled from Vane's gemstone eyes onto Griffyn's horrifying face. "I would have given you the world and more, you foolish man! Only until you have tasted the pain I have felt will your curse end!"

Crimson lightning split the sky with violet radiance and Griffyn's demonic roar was as deep and terrible as the thunder. It was as hollow as the dark abyss that devoured all light and hope.

Vane's heartbreaking laughter echoed like the loneliest of places in the rose scented gloom that would perpetually permeate that cursed castle that was now surrounded by a frightening black forest.

To Be Continued…

Please review this story.

Flora


	2. Chapter One

Beast

Flora_Winters

I do not own Beauty and the Beast, and I'm not making any money writing this story either.

Summary: Cheating, a broken heart, and a terrible curse are only the beginnings of this morbid little fairytale. Language, MM, OC, and Violence

Chapter One

Christian Bell was the youngest of seven sons. His father, Lucien Bell, he had been the same. There was supposed to be something special about being the seventh son of a seventh son. But, there was nothing special about him at all. All of his older brothers possessed special talents and gifts.

Davin was the oldest and he was blessed with good looks. He was devilishly handsome, and he knew it as well. Gabriel was the second oldest and he was very smart. Christopher was the third oldest and he was really, really strong. Michael was the fourth oldest and he could create anything out of wood. Jacob was the fifth oldest and he could make a dead stick bloom with colorful blossoms. Even Noah had a special gift. He was the sixth oldest and he could draw anything he looked at.

It just wasn't fair. His brothers had special talents and he didn't have a one. The only things he liked to do was read books and daydream about silver palaces floating in azure skies. He once read about a beautiful faerie that was so powerful, he could transform clouds into floating castles. That caused him to shake his head as he gazed out the open window.

His beautiful mother had died soon after giving birth to him. The same thing had happened to his father's lovely mother. He was told that it was like she had just faded like a sweet-smelling rose does at the end of summer. It made him sad sometimes. Had he killed his mother?

"Good Lord," a frightened voice gasped, making him spin around in the pink light of morning. It was his father. He was still in his long nightshirt.

"Are you all right, Father?"

The man scratched the back of his head.

"You looked just like your mother standing there in the window like that."

Christian felt himself blush pink. His brother's often teased him about looking like a girl when his back was turned. It was because he wouldn't allow anyone to touch his molten silver locks. He refused to let it be cut. His glossy hair was like a security blanket.

"Do I?" He asked, running a slender hand through the straight strands.

His father nodded his head. "Are you going into town today?"

Christian smiled warmly. "A new book has come in for me."

"What is this?" A voice asked and Davin came strutting into the room like the vain peacock that he was. "You're getting a new book? Whatever will this one be about, brother dear? Will it be about a beautiful princess running away from a terrible beast of a man who haunts some darkened palace above a stormy sea?"

Christian rolled his smoky eyes. Davin hated books. He hated them more than bathing in cold water, which he often voiced rather loudly.

"No," he told him, stepping aside for him. "I don't know what it will be about. You know how I love surprises."

Davin snorted. He was all dressed up. He must be off to woo another village maid or something.

"I want breakfast!" Noah shouted, racing into the room. He was covered in paint. It was hard to believe that he was older than him. "I want breakfast, Chrissy!"

He must have been up painting all night. He was bad about that. The poor thing never slept anymore. He feared that his dear brother's muse was soon going to drive him insane. But, artistic geniuses were often mad.

"Noah!" A loud voice shrieked in outrage. It was Jacob. "Did you pick my black hydrangea?"

Noah squeaked, made a sudden face, and darted from the room like a fox. It made Christian laugh.

A loud explosion suddenly shook the entire house, causing Davin to roar at the top of his manly lungs.

"GABRIEL!" He shouted, grabbing the broom from the corner, banging the end against the ceiling above their heads with it. "STOMP YOUR STUPID FEET IF YOU'RE STILL ALIVE?"

Christian didn't even batter a long lash. He could hear the stomping. In all honesty, the house was in a constant state of chaos. It was a right madhouse.

"Christopher!" Michael yelled. "Get up and come lift this new bed I made!"

Christian took a deep breath. All of his brothers were crazy in some way and they were always having fun it seemed. He felt sort of left out.

"Father?" he asked, turning to him. "Are you still going on that business trip to the city?

Lucien nodded his white head. "It is a big deal, Christian. If all goes well, you will be able to have all the books you want. You can start your own library."

Christian looked away from him. He cared not about all that.

"I just wish you wouldn't go alone. You know how bad your sense of direction has gotten."

Davin grabbed him from behind, pulling him back against him, resting his chin on top of his head. "Why not let me come along with you, Father? I'd really like to see the big city."

"City girls," Christian corrected, only to yelp when Davin pinched him under the arm. It actually stung.

"Little boys shouldn't speak to their elders with such sharp tongues," Davin sneered ever so playfully.

"For once you're right, Dav," Christian said, pulling away from him. "You are getting rather old. Shouldn't you be married?"

He turned with a glow in his grey eyes, seeing his brother's nostrils flare in outrage. He took off running. Davin was very conscious about his good looks. He was so vain.

"COME BACK HERE!" Davin roared, giving chase on booted feet. "I'LL MAKE YOU EAT THOSE WICKED WORDS WITH A HELPING OF NOAH'S SPECIAL FERTILIZER!"

"I'm off to the bookstore, Father!" Christian shouted over his slender shoulder, zooming out the front door. "Don't leave until I get back!"

"GET BACK HERE!" Davin growled from close behind. "I DIDN'T GIVE YOU LEAVE!"

Christian laughed as he practically frolicked across the wooden bridge Michael had rebuilt. "Be careful, Dav," he cooed, spinning around, skipping backwards like a graceful butterfly. "You don't want to get all stinky with sweat."

Davin froze dead in his tracks with a slight skid. Oh, he looked positively murderous.

Christian waved to him, winking before sprinting off. The warm wind billowed through his long hair, making it flutter out like silver wings. He couldn't wait to see what book had come in for him. He hoped it was about an exciting adventure.

~*~

Tristan Brock was peeking between books, seeing the silver haired beauty with his slender back turned to him. He had secretly followed him into this musty smelling place of mold and yellow paper. What was it about books? Every time he saw the boy, he had his perfect nose in a book.

Christian Bell was more beautiful than any girl in the whole village. He was like fresh fallen snow on the first day of winter. That was how flawless his white skin was. Oh, he just wanted to touch him.

He quickly sniffed his armpits and decided it was time to accidentally bump into him. Today was the day. He was going to tell him how he truly felt. He was going to tell the very beautiful Christian Bell that he was in love with him. If all went well, then he would be very happy. If all did not go well, then he was still going to have to do what his father told him. He was going to have to leave the village and move to the big city to be trained by his seafaring uncle, his father's twin brother.

But, if Christian did turn from him, he was just going to hang himself in the forest. He had even gotten the rope he was going to use should his heart be broken.

~*~

Christian turned, running right smack into what felt like a brick wall. He would have fallen backwards had a pair of strong hands not quickly and gently grabbed him, steadying him.

"I'm so sorry," he said, looking up from the books that had fallen at his feet. "Oh, Tristan…"

"Hi," the golden headed young man smiled with white teeth. "I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you okay?"

Christian nodded his head. "I wasn't looking where I was going either. Thank you for catching me."

"You're welcome," Tristan said. "That's what friends do, right?"

"Why are you in here?" Christian asked him as he knelt down to pick up his books, but Tristan stopped him from doing so. He watched the taller man begin picking them up for him. "I thought you hated to read."

"Oh, I do," Tristan said, holding the books in his arms. "But I do like looking at the pictures."

Christian rolled his eyes. Why was he in here for real? Was he up to some kind of mischief again? The guy was always playing some kind of trick on him.

"What are you up to?" Christian asked, looking up and then around. "Is something going to fall on me again?"

Tristan quickly shook his head. "I'm not up to anything…this time."

Christian pursed his lips, looking at the brown skinned man. Tristan could give Davin a run for his looks if he was vain enough to care.

"Why don't I believe you?" He asked. "You look guilty of something."

He watched the taller man bite his bottom lip. Now he really did look guilty. He began to brace himself for whatever was going to happen.

"Okay," Tristan said, toeing at the ground. "Can we go somewhere to talk privately?"

"What's wrong?" Christian suddenly asked in concern. There was a fearful look in those brown eyes. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Tristan said, shaking his head, laughing nervously. "Everything is fine."

"Okay," Christian told him. "Let me check out these books and pick up my new one then."

Tristan nodded, and Christian turned from him. He could hear the gentle giant lumbering around behind him.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Mr. Bell?" The old shopkeeper asked. His name was Armand Barrett. He was in his eighties. "And I have that new book you ordered as well. I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you so very much, Mr. Barrett," he said, placing the books carefully into his bag. "I'll let you know."

"What brings you in here, Mr. Brock?" Mr. Barrett asked.

"Nothing," Tristan said. "I saw Christian and came to see him."

"Ah," the old man said, looking put down a little bit. "And here I thought Mr. Bell might have brought you some enlightenment."

Christian laughed, playfully punching Tristan in the shoulder. "I'm still trying, Mr. Barrett."

"Well," Mr. Barrett said, waving the two off. "You two take care and enjoy this beautiful morning. I hear it is going to get rather nasty later on today and this week."

Christian made a face. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Mr. Barrett."

The brass bell jingled as the two teens exited the shop, walking down the cobbled sidewalk. Christian looked over at his taller friend.

"Where do you want to go and talk?" He asked him.

Tristan looked over at him. "Someplace where nobody can hear what I'm about to tell you."

Christian suddenly felt strange. What in the world was wrong with his friend?

He followed along beside Tristan towards the Gray Forest. The leaves were green and birds were happily chirping away. The two of them walked in silence for some time.

"So," Christian said, putting down his bag, looking around. "What did you want to tell me?"

Tristan walked a couple steps beyond him, keeping his broad back to him. Christian just looked at him.

"Tristan?"

"You're my best friend," Tristan slowly said, not facing him. "And I never want to hurt you. I will never hurt you, Christian."

Christian blinked. What in the world was he going on about?

"I'm afraid," Tristan whispered. "I don't want you to hate me."

Christian cocked his head to the side, making his hair shimmer in the beam of light that was shining down on him. "What are you talking about? You're my best friend, Tristan. How could I ever hate you? You protect me and you even saved my life."

He remembered how that wolf had attacked him four years ago. He still had the scar. If it hadn't been for Tristan, he'd probably be dead.

"Tell me," Christian said. "What's wrong?"

"I love you!" Tristan shouted. His voice echoed.

A warm wind, smelling of honeysuckle gently blew through Christian's shiny hair. He blinked his eyes. He looked down, seeing that Tristan's hands were at his sides, clenched into large fists.

"I love you," Tristan whispered, slowly turning around to face him. "I love you more than anything."

He didn't know what to say. He felt like he was in one of his books. Only, he wasn't a girl.

"I was going to tell you on that day," Tristan said, taking a small step towards him. "But, that wolf. I almost lost you. I could have lost you. I couldn't lose you. I was terrified that I would lose you if I told you then."

Christian dropped his eyes, turning his face to the side. Tristan had been keeping this secret all this time?

"I love you," Tristan said again. "I really, really love you. I'd do anything for you."

"Tristan…"

"Do you hate me?" Tristan slowly asked, suddenly taking a step back like a wounded animal. "Do you think me sick?"

Christian quickly looked up at him. His eyes were stinging him. He could still feel those sharp teeth and hear his own cries for help. His heart was wounded.

"I love you," Tristan whispered.

"People will hate us," Christian said.

"I don't give a damn what others think!" Tristan snarled angrily. "People know me and they know you. We're good people. We have respectable families. Wait…"

Christian felt his knees trembling.

"You…" Tristan said. "You…"

Christian smiled, letting a tear fall. "You're an idiot."

Tristan suddenly had him in his powerful arms, squeezing him ever so gently. Christian stood just the way he was, letting himself be embraced by the muscular giant.

"You saved me," Christian whispered, wrapping his arms around him. "How could I not love you?"

Tristan kissed him chastely on the cheek. Christian smiled and they kissed on the lips. It felt just like something from a book.

"My brothers," he suddenly said, pulling back. "They'll kill you."

Tristan made a face.

"Gabriel will hook you up to some machine," he said, listing things off. "Jacob will use you as fertilizer for his hyacinths. Christopher will throw an ox at you. Michael will lock you up in the coffin he just made and have Jacob bury you in the garden while Noah paints it."

He was silenced with another kiss. It was so warm and wonderful.

"What about Davin?" Tristan asked. "What will he do?"

"Eh," Christian said, rolling his eyes. "He wouldn't be able to leave his mirror long enough to do anything. Plus, all I have to do is look at him in horror and shout wrinkle and he'd run like a girl back to his room just to make sure I was lying, giving you plenty of time to run."

Tristan snorted and then looked really serious. "You love me?"

Christian lowered his head, looking down at Tristan's large booted feet. What did that one book say about a man who has large feet? He couldn't remember.

He looked back up, nodding. "I love you."

Tristan smiled. It reminded Christian of the sun. His smile was just that warm.

"Come on," Tristan said, leading him by the hand through the trees. "You can read me a story."

Christian laughed. "You'll just fall asleep."

"Perhaps," Tristan said. "I love hearing you speak."

Christian felt his heart do a little pitter-patter.

"Um," he said, looking back. "We're leaving my books."

The two made a quick u-turn.

~*~

"All right, Christian," Davin said, looking across the wooden table at him. "The time has come, brother dear. Spill those red lips. What are you hiding?"

Christian didn't even hear him. His mind was back in the forest, resting in Tristan's muscular arms. The two of them had kissed, touched each other, and even cried for a little bit. He was so very, very happy.

"Christian!" Davin snapped.

He eyes unglazed. "Yes?"

Davin put a gloved hand to his forehead, rolling his eyes. "Your elbow is in your salad that Jacob has so graciously grown for us."

Jacob snorted. "The spinach is really good this year."

"You look so happy, Christian," Noah said. The tip of his nose was blue and his cheeks were splattered with specks of yellow. "Is your new book that good?"

"Yes," his father said from the head of the long table. "What has happened to put that look of bliss on your face?"

"Is it a girl?" Michael asked.

Davin snorted. "I'm sure."

Gabriel pursed his lips at him. "Don't be mean, Davin."

Christopher smiled. "Well, what is it, Chrissy?"

"I really like my new book," Christian lied. "It is really funny."

Davin hissed under his breath. "He lies."

Christian looked over at him. "Why do you say that?"

"No book you've ever read has ever put that look on your face," he said, pushing his plate away. "I know that look. It's the look all the girls give me."

Lucien cleared his throat and Christian suddenly felt trapped. What was he going to do?

"Christian," Lucien said, looking at him with tenderness. "I'll be leaving within the hour. Why don't you just tell your brothers what I came across today in the forest?"

Christian gasped. The air froze in his lungs. His father knew? His father had seen!

"I knew it!" Davin said, clapping his hands. "Who was it?"

"I heard everything, Chrissy," Lucien smiled, wiping his mouth off with the napkin from his lap. "It's okay."

He looked down at his lap, seeing that he was squeezing his own napkin.

"Tristan…"

Jacob dropped his fork and Christopher's jaw hit the table.

Gabriel looked over at Michael.

Noah scratched his nose. "Tristan?"

Davin blinked his eyes several times and suddenly howled with laughter.

Christian was taken aback by his reaction. Why was he laughing like a crazy person?

"I knew it!" He laughed, slamming both hands down on the table, laughing even more. "Where's my money, Gaby?"

"What?" Christian asked, looking around at his family. "You all knew?"

Noah licked his spoon. "What about Tristan?"

Davin made a lewd gesture and Noah cocked his head to the side.

"Oh," Noah said, nodding his head. "It's about time."

"About time?" Christian asked him.

"You say his name in your sleep all the time," Noah smiled.

"I do?" Christian asked.

Noah nodded. "All the time. Didn't I say that?"

Christopher was on his feet, leaving the table.

"Hey!" Christian shouted. "Where are you going?"

"To beat up the man that seduced my little brother," he calmly said, searching for his shoes.

"NO!" Christian shouted. "You can't do that!"

"Everyone calm down," Lucien said, smiling up at the ceiling, and then got to his feet. "Christian, come help me get ready."

"Oh, don't you dare," Christian hissed at Christopher. "I'll put a snake in one of your boots."

Christopher chuckled. "You would?"

Christian nodded. "Well, I'll have Jacob do it."

"Christian," Lucien said. "Come help you father get ready."

"Oh," he said, rising. "I'm sorry."

Davin sat back in his chair. "I'm seeing a new jacket in my near future, brother of mine."

Gabriel made a face. "You can't be serious. You know I just spent all my allowance on those new bottles."

Michael leaned forward. "Oh, he's dead serious."

Christian couldn't believe it. They had all known?

"Father?" He asked.

"You're my youngest son," Lucien said, leading the way up the stairs. "I just had a feeling."

Christian followed him.

"I just want you to be careful," he said, leading the way to his room. "Not everyone in the village is as crazy as we are. They might not understand."

"I know," Christian said, feeling bad. It shouldn't be like that. But, that's just the way the world was. "Tristan is a big guy. He beat that wolf up."

Lucien turned, looking at him. "And that's the only reason why I'm allowing this. He saved your life and he loves you. I heard him say that he would do anything for you."

Christian looked down at his feet.

"I had a talk with him."

Christian quickly looked back up, frightened.

"He will be leaving for the city in a week," Lucien said. "He must find a way to support you."

Christian narrowed his eyes. "I'm not a girl. I can support myself."

"I know this," Lucien said. "But I want to see what he will do for you."

"You're testing him," Christian said.

Lucien nodded. "You're my youngest son. It is what any good, caring, responsible and loving father would do."

"A week?" Christian asked. "But…we just…"

"It will be okay," Lucien smiled, hugging his son. "Tristan is the son of a wealthy businessman and his uncle is a wealthy ship captain. He will do well. His father believes in him and likes you very much. The city is rather kind to people…people who love like you do."

Christian hugged his father back.

"Now come on," Lucien said, letting him go. "Let's take my bags down."

Christian helped him.

"Oh, before I forget," Lucien said. "What would you like for me to bring you back?"

Christian racked his brain. What did he want?

"Well," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I've not seen a rose in ages, Father. Would you bring me back a red rose?"

Lucien snorted. "I think I can manage."

Christian smiled. "Thank you."

Jacob could make any flower grow, all except for roses.

~*~

There was the sound of distant thunder as Christian waved his father off. The horse-drawn carriage soon vanished from sight.

"Oh, goodie," Noah said, clapping his hands. "I love thunder. I just wish I could draw it."

"Christian," Davin purred from beside his other brothers. "You simply must invite Mr. Brock to sup with us tonight."

Gabriel nodded. "We promise not to eat him."

"And I wont hit him," Christopher muttered under his breath. "Too hard…"

"If either of you do anything to hurt him in any way," Christian said, looking from one to the next with a scorching gaze. "I'll make you wish you'd left with Father."

He walked off, shaking his head, muttering under his breath, just catching Davin's words.

"Did you see the way he looked at us?" The eldest slightly chuckled. "He looked just like mother when she was hissing mad."

"I'm not mad!" He yelled, spinning around, walking backwards. "I'm making a point!"

Davin laughed out loud. "She always said the same thing to Father."

Christian blinked, turning back around. Had she?

Thunder boomed. The storm Mr. Barrett had been talking about was rolling in. He began to jog off towards Tristan's home.

It was going to be a long night.

His brothers had better take heed. That was all he had to say. He read books. He knew how to take revenge.

TBC…

Please review and tell me what you think. This story is going to be so much fun. I have so many ideas. So, let me know what y'all think.


	3. Chapter Two

Beast

Flora_Winters

I do not own Beauty and the Beast, and I'm not making any money writing this story either.

Summary: Cheating, a broken heart, and a terrible curse are only the beginnings of this morbid little fairytale. Language, MM, OC, and Violence

**Chapter Two**

Tristan's home was three stories high and built from grey stones. It had more windows than one would want to count and many of them were larger than a person standing tall. The home was grand and imposing, but the family dwelling within would give a complete stranger the shirt off their backs. They were just that kind, warm and charitable, but never advertised it. It was a sure sign of true charity.

Standing before the large wooden door, Christian knocked his usual three times and took a small step back. The manor was so large it would probably take a few moments for someone to answer. He hoped someone would come soon. They sky was growing dark with ominous storm clouds. He silently prayed that his father would be well and that his brothers were not planning something besides just supper. He'd hate to have to punish them.

A warm breeze lifted his silver strands, making him look back the way he'd walked. The mere echo of a chill went sliding down his spine. It almost felt as though someone or something was watching him from some hidden place.

He narrowed his eyes, betting it was one of his brothers. In fact, it could be all six of them come to watch. Well, if that was the case, he wasn't going to oblige them. He would simply leave them out here for the rain to catch. It would serve each of them right for spying. He wasn't about to give them a show to watch. If they wanted something like that, they could all just scuttle on down to the town tavern. Jewel's always had some kind of show going on. He'd never been, but Davin was always going on about the blondes. Apparently they're very flexible.

He was seriously giving it some thought to just pick up a rock and send it flying with all his might into the bushes. That would send them running for it, but he didn't want to accidentally blind one of them should his aim be true. The last thing he wanted was for one of his brothers to have an excuse to start acting like a pirate. An eye patch would not do. Plus, he'd have to live with the guilt and he didn't want that.

Glancing at the closed door again, he began to wonder what in the world was taking so long. It wasn't like the Brock family to leave a visitor waiting outside like this.

"Hello!" He called out, knocking on the door once more. "Is anyone in?"

It wasn't graceful. He knew that, but now he was beginning to worry. Someone should have answered the door by now.

He was just about to knock again, when the door suddenly swung open. Thunder boomed and Christian stumbled backwards with a startled gasp.

Tristan stood in the open doorway with a big, goofy smile blossoming on his face. "Hi," he said, grinning from ear to ear, suddenly looking up at the darkening sky. "Why are you out in this soon to be bad weather?"

Christian raked a pale hand through his hair, smiling right along with the giant. "I've come to invite you to supper."

The blond beamed, suddenly blushing. He looked around.

"I want to kiss you again. You've made me so happy."

"Not here," Christian whispered, pointing over his shoulder. "I think my brothers may be watching."

Tristan looked over the smaller teen's head. "They're very good at hiding."

He shrugged his slender shoulders. "They like to think they are."

Tristan laughed and gently caressed a soft, smooth cheek with his large hand. Christian almost shivered. The touch was so warm and tender. His eyes held such emotion.

"Would you like to come inside?" The bigger teen asked. "I'm sure I can find us an old tapestry to hide behind."

Christian put his smaller hand over Tristan's and shook his head. He wanted to, but he needed to get back.

"I need to get back and help cook. The last thing I want is for one of them to get inspired, wonder off, and let the house burn down before supper even gets started."

Tristan leaned over and placed a cloud soft kiss on top of his silver head. "What time should I arrive then?"

Christian looked up at him. His pale cheeks were the color of fresh plum blossoms.

"Around eight."

The bigger teen nodded. "I'll see you around eight then."

They both hugged a moment longer.

Christian gave him his happiest smile ever and really had to struggle with himself. He wanted to happily skip away, but his brothers would never let him live that down.

He walked off as quickly as he could, before he could take Tristan up on that offer about finding an old tapestry. But, he slowly turned back around. Tristan was still standing there in the open door and he was waving to him.

Christian waved back, before heading towards home again. He had the oddest feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't place what it was about. Something was tugging at him. He chose to ignore it. Everything was fine.

When he was further away from Brock Manor, he stopped along the path.

"You can come out now," he said, looking left and right. "I know you're there."

Nobody came stepping out of the bushes or from behind trees. No one answered. All he could hear was the birds and another boom of thunder. The storm was getting closer.

Could he have been mistaken then?

No.

Someone had been watching him. He was sure of it. He had felt those eyes on him.

Was that a growl?

Sharp teeth!

A twig snapped to his left and he took off racing like a deer. He didn't stop running until he was safely at his door.

"Hey, Chrissy!" Christopher called to him from around the corner of the house. "Jacob and Noah need your help in the kitchen."

"Where are the others?" He asked, struggling to catch his breath.

"Michael is in the shed, Gabriel's hair is now blue, and Davin is over at Ellen's," he answered, beginning to look concern. "Why are you breathing so hard? Are you okay? Did that…"

Christian held up a hand. "I wanted to beat the rain."

No sooner had he spoken, the rain began to fall. He quickly went inside, not seeing the oddest expression fall over his older brother's now rain soaked face."

Closing the door behind him, he leaned back against it. Something had been watching him. He was now sure of it more than ever.

"Chrissy!" Noah cried, poking his paint stained face around the corner. "I burned water!"

"Gods!" Jacob shouted. "Would you look at the size of this zucchini? I'll wait and slice this one up so Tristan can watch how good I am at it."

Christian's left eye twitched.

_Give me strength._

Noah laughed.

~OOOOO~

Christopher Bell finally came in out of the rain, taking hold of a piece of cloth and dried his face off. He had heard his littlest brother speak, but just before the rain fell, the last word from Christian's mouth had not been anything he had ever heard before. It hadn't been English.

Christian's voice had taken a tone sharper than a blade and it had cut the air like lightning. Deep and hollow. The word had echoed.

_"I want to beat the **ULMA**."_

Rain had quickly fallen. He doubted his littlest brother even noticed he'd switched to another dialect. But, then again, his littlest brother did read many books. It was un-telling how many languages Christian had come across over the years he spent lost between the pages of books.

He took a seat, ignoring Michael's hammering. Christian's eyes hadn't looked like this littlest brother's eyes.

They had looked green for a moment. A green he couldn't even describe. Not even the color of grass after a spring shower or emeralds could describe the frightening shade they had taken.

He shook his head, deciding to blame the whole thing on a lack of sleep. Plus, Christian could have just been playing with him. Deciding to get him back for wanting to beat up Tristan.

_But…those eyes…_

Just a trick of the light.

"Come here and hold this down," Michael called over his shoulder. "This coffin needs another nail."

He got up and walked over, giving his younger sibling a strong hand.

~OOOOO~

Christian left the soup to gently simmer under the watchful eye of Gabriel. He needed to wash and dress himself. He wanted to look his very best for supper. It wasn't that he needed to impress Tristan, but it would be lots of fun doing so.

It was an hour before seven and the rain was really coming down. He looked towards his window and hoped his father was well. He knew how he hated travelling when the weather was foul. Well, at least it wasn't cold enough for snow. That was one good thing about summer.

He picked up his book and smiled. It was called _Mirror, Mirror_. A tale about a creepy princess, a paranoid queen, and a prince who was lousy with directions. A rare piece of comedy that had him cracking up at the most inconvenient moments. Sometimes a familiar passage would randomly pop into his mind and he would crack up on the spot. It was no wonder most people in the village thought him odd. Most people don't read. A very sad thing. A tragedy really. Maybe he would start a book club. The meetings would be quick.

He put the book back down, began to wash, and then started to dress himself afterwards. He decided on black pants and a midnight blue silk shirt with lace sleeves and collar.

A knock came at his door and Davin popped his head in. His oldest brother whistled approval.

"You look very nice."

Christian turned from the mirror. "Really?"

Davin nodded, stepping in. He walked over, taking the brush from him and began combing his silver strands.

Silence passed for several moments.

"You look so much like Mom."

Christian closed his eyes. "I don't have hips."

Davin chuckled. "My little willow twig."

The two laughed.

"There," Davin said, tying back his silver tresses. "You're stunning now."

Christian looked at himself in the mirror's oval surface. He thought he looked like he always did, just with more polish, gloss and shine.

The clock began to chime half past seven. It was now time to set the table and get all in order.

"Knock him dead," Davin grinned. "Michael has a coffin ready."

Christian rolled his eyes. Someone was getting extra spice on their lamb. One shouldn't upset the cook. Terrible things could happen.

"I'll have the good china waiting," Davin told him, exiting the room.

The rain had finally stopped but it was still thundering. He got to his feet.

_Please don't let them do anything stupid._

**TBC…**

**Please review.**

_~Flora_


	4. Chapter Three

Beast

Flora_Winters

I do not own Beauty and the Beast, and I'm not making any money writing this story either.

Summary: Cheating, a broken heart, and a terrible curse are only the beginnings of this morbid little fairytale. Language, MM, OC, and Violence

**Chapter Three**

A castle loomed like a venomous thorn in the distance, surrounded by a thick forest filled with twisted, deformed trees. Ghostly fog haunted every gnarled branch. Phantom mists crept and slithered over every exposed root. An angry, yet depressed mood had the very air feeling extremely heavy and foreboding. The closer one stepped, the worse the feeling of sudden dread became. If the razor fanged shadows didn't send wondering travelers running for their very sanity, the eerie howling sent them running for their lives every time, because they were the demonic screams of a soul in perpetual torment.

Lucien Bell had no choice but to make his slow way through the dark forest. No stars had the light to brighten his way. The bridge was out due to flooding. In fact, the blasted thing had been washed completely away, forcing him into having to backtrack.

It was so dark. Every crawling and creeping shadow had a startling sound to make. The really strange thing was, he'd never known there to be a castle in these parts. It was almost as if the deceitful mists had given birth to the titanic monstrosity.

Lucien bit his bottom lip as he slowly approached the hellish gates. They were large and very broad. Black as sin and sharper than the eye of a seamstress' needle.

He knew he was lost and needed to get out of the rain. There was no way he'd be able to find his way out of the forest in this bad weather. It was far too dark. Plus, he could hear the howls of distant wolves coming from behind and they were getting closer.

His dear, beautiful Christian had been correct. His sense of direction was dead. It had died a cold and lonely death. Bitter to the bitter end.

Suddenly his horse almost fled when the broad gates began to open as if by the help of invisible hands. Silver runes above the twisted metal glowed, reminding him of his youngest son's lustrous hair before blazing a violet amethyst.

"I dare not enter such a place, Scotch," he spoke to his horse, only to blanch when the howls got closer. "But, I dare not take my chances with a pack of howling wolves either."

He was far too miserable to take notice of the footprints invisible feet had made in the mud as he quickly urged Scotch through the enchanted gates. Getting out of the storm was his main objective at the moment. He'd worry about trespassing and ghosts later.

Looking around, his already stunned eyes widened all the more. The castle property was massive. The courtyard alone dwarfed the town square.

He glanced back over his shoulder just as the gates swung shut with a thunderous clang. It nearly caused Scotch to toss him off, but he quickly calmed the spooked animal.

Gardens within midnight gardens and mazes of coiling thorns spread beyond sight. Horned gargoyles were dancing with legged serpents trapped in stone. Horrors built upon the backs of terrors looked as if they had been carved from the very stones he was sure paved the many roads to Hell. He looked up at spiraling towers that were taller than small gods. It was sheer madness just to stare up at alien marvel. Even the endless stained glass windows portrayed bellowing nightmares from within still pictures. It hurt to tear his eyes away, but he forced himself to do so.

He got off Scotch and led him to what appeared to be a rundown stable. For all he knew, it could have once been a house. The structure was far bigger than his very house.

"Come on," he spoke softly to Scotch. "Let's get you out of this weather, too."

Scotch snorted his approval, making Lucien chuckle a bit. He was cold and needed to get warm. It wasn't good for a man his age to take ill.

Once inside, he quickly found the structure to be a stable for horses. The outside looked in terrible disrepair, but the inside was nicer than most stables in the village. It was shocking. He even found the hay to be warm, dry and very fresh. He was almost tempted to just stay in there with the horse, but curiosity got the better of him.

Looking for a way into the castle was easy. To his astonishment, he discovered the front door to be standing wide open for him to enter. Taking a deep breath, he did just that.

"Hello!" He called out, stepping inside. His voice echoed into eternity. "I don't mean to trespass. I'm lost and cold."

His echo was his only reply.

Perhaps the place was abandoned. But, it couldn't be. The gates had opened for him and the door was wide open, too.

He stepped onto a vast sea of white marble. Towering pillars went on and on, holding up vaulted ceilings. His eyes fell on staircases that looked as if they led all the way up to some low Heaven.

"Hello?"

Nothing but his own echo. It sounded frightened.

Slowly, he cautiously made his way across the vast sea of marble, discovering a faint glow in the distance. The door slammed shut behind him, causing him to yelp with alarm.

He spun around.

Nobody was there.

The wind?

It had to be.

So, he followed the glow till he came to a half open doorway. He carefully poked his dripping wet head inside.

The room was grand. A welcoming fire burned from within the stone maws of a fanged dragon. It was huge. The biggest fireplace he'd ever seen. Even the Brock's didn't have anything as splendid as this. He bet nobody in the world did.

A comfortable looking winged chair was before the warm fire and it looked as if it had been waiting just for him to take full and complete advantage of. So, he did just that. He was so cold and wet. He threw caution to the wolves that were probably prowling just beyond the other side of that warped gate.

He took off his wet cloak and eased himself down into the chair's embrace. It was the most comfortable chair he'd ever sat in. Nothing could or would ever be able to compare.

The soothing warmth chased the cold from his bones, causing his weary eyes to get heavy, and just when he was about to close them in sleep, the shadow of something large and very fast darted across the wall before him. He felt his heart nearly stop in his chest and his breath felt frozen in his lungs.

"H…Hello?"

He trembled in silence and his fear only grew. Had a wolf gotten in?

"Welcome, stranger," a deep, rumbling voice filled the room. A man's voice, but what kind of man, he couldn't tell. He was glued to the spot by an unseen power. "Welcome to my home."

Lucien struggled to rise, but that strong, growling voice commanded him to be still and he did just that. He dared not move. This was the master of the castle and he had the kind of voice no man would ever wish to defy, for it was a voice which promised pain should it ever be disobeyed.

"You are a guest in my home," the commanding, arrogant voice spoke from all directions. "Make yourself comfortable in _my_ chair, old man. You are safe here, _for the night_."

For the night?

Those ominous words had him shivering with fear.

"What about the morning?" Lucien asked, voice far stronger than his knees.

The dark voice chuckled. A wicked laugh. Filled with storm.

"Morning has not visited me in many years," the voice answered him after several stretching moments. "No star or moon shines here. Not even the sun can chase such darkness away. My light was blown out by one unforgiving breath."

Sorrow? Madness?

Both!

Twisted with unknowable pain.

"I thank you for your generous hospitality, kind Sir," Lucien spoke, voice still calm and steadier than his body. "I will take my leave the moment the weather is fair."

Another dark chuckle.

"You are hungry," his host spoke. It was no question. "My slaves will bring you refreshment."

Slaves?

Lucien watched the giant shadow dart across the wall and he nearly cried out in terror, squeezing his eyes shut. The door banged shut from behind and he would have screamed had he not already been chewing on his sleeve in order to keep his teeth from chattering.

He was far too frightened to run. If he were to even stand up, he would collapse into a complete mess on the floor.

He'd never been a religious man. But, now he wished he'd been.

He should have gone to Mass more often. He should have taken Holy Communion when he'd had the chance. He should have prayed like he was supposed to.

Staring into the blazing fire, he listened to the burning logs pop. Each one reminded him of sharp teeth crushing bone. After all, he was gazing into the maws of a dragon.

He let out a slow breath.

Horns.

The shadow had horns.

He was in the Devil's house.

**TBC…**

Thank you for the reviews. Keep them coming.

_~Flora_


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